A Talented Maid

Chapter 8

Marie woke up in a daze.

“Another dream...”

She looked down at her hands. This had been her second Mozart dream. She could still hear the faint sound of the music that filled her head in the dream.

Will I get this ability in real life?

Marie wasn’t sure if this was just a dream or a prophecy of what was to come.

I don’t feel any differently yet, though...

Oh! I have to hurry or I’ll be late for work.

It was still early in the day, but Marie had to arrive before the orchestra members to set up for rehearsal.

***

“Look at all these instruments!” Marie exclaimed when she stepped into the rehearsal hall at the Crystal Palace.

“How lovely.”

She admired the timpani and cymbals at the back.

“This must be what they call percussion instruments.”

Marie had never seen orchestral instruments up close. She’d worked in the palace for a number of years, but she’d seldom been outside the Lily Palace and certainly never had occasion to attend a concert.

I hope I get to see a concert at the festival this year.

Scullery maids seldom had the opportunity to hear music at all.

But maybe I’ll get to catch one of the many concerts held this time.

Marie got to work sorting through the instruments and sweeping the floor before the orchestra members arrived. As she did so, she came upon an object she had not seen in a long time.

“Wow, a piano!”

A piano was a keyboard instrument that was replacing the harpsichord all over Europe recently.

I used to play all the time... Marie was flooded with fond memories of practicing at her father’s palace. I loved playing the piano.

She smiled faintly to herself. She adored the clear ring of the keys and marveled at the different sounds that the same key could make.

Perhaps I could give it a little try?

She stood over the keys, debating over the matter when a gentle voice dissuaded her, “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. It was just tuned.”

“Oh!”

Marie turned around in surprise. A young man was standing with a broad smile on his face.

“Are you the new maid here to help us?”

“Yes, sir. I’m Marie.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Vahan. I’m the interim conductor of the Imperial Orchestra. The previous musical director had to retire in a hurry due to illness, so I’m filling in.”

Marie was astonished.

A conductor? But he looks so young!

Interim or not, he seemed too young to be a maestro.

“Please feel free to come to me with any questions,” said Vahan.

“Yes, sir.”

“And I hope you’re not too disappointed. I’ll let you test the piano another time.”

Marie answered with a smile: “Thank you, sir.” He seemed like a nice man.

The orchestra members soon arrived and the rehearsal began.

“Everybody here? The top of the first movement, please. We have to get this right. We’re playing for the imperial court and their special guests on Empire Day.”

“Yes, maestro!”

The piece the orchestra was scheduled to rehearse was the symphony chosen specially for Empire Day. Marie’s job was to assist them, and as Miss Susan had said, there was nothing to it.

“Let’s begin!”

The young conductor raised his baton and the movement began. With the weeping glissando of the clarinet, other instruments joined in. The rehearsal hall overflowed with various textures and volumes of sounds.

I can’t believe I get to hear this music, Marie thought as she listened to the orchestra.

Most people never got to hear an orchestra for as long as they lived. Only the rich attended regular concerts. Even though this was only a rehearsal, it was a real treat for a maid such as Marie.

This is lovely, she thought.

But it wasn’t long before a strange sense of discomfort came over her, causing her to frown.

What is this unpleasant feeling?

It was like looking at a messy room.

Why am I getting this feeling?

Marie soon came to realize that she was hearing the wrong notes in the music.

The second violin and the horns are playing the wrong notes. And the timpani missed a beat. The orchestra is playing at different tempos.

Oh, there go the violins again. That’s not how they’re supposed to play that tremolo. Uh...

What’s happening to me?!

Marie was baffled. She didn’t know anything about orchestras or orchestral music, nor had she ever heard an orchestra until now. It would have been a marvel if she could tell the instrument sounds apart given her lack of training, and yet here she was, hearing the flaws.

How do I know what’s wrong? I’ve never even heard this piece before!

Then it came to Marie: Mozart! It’s Mozart!

The heaven-sent musical genius Mozart had appeared in her dream and left her with this exceptional ear. Now that she understood what was going on, she realized that she was able to see the music in her head as she heard it. She could not believe it.

Marie-as-Mozart-in-real-life thought to herself, How can the Imperial Orchestra perform so badly? I don’t think this is just a matter of putting in more time in the practice room.

Thanks to the Mozart influence, Marie soon realized that the piece itself was the problem.

It’s technically too complicated. The main theme of the symphony is rehashed through superfluously baroque technique. It just sounds messy.

Marie focused on the music for another moment and concluded: The fugue is too convoluted and not very pleasant to hear.

The fugue was a compositional style that introduced one theme and developed it in many forms. A complicated compositional technique, it contained deep musical significance most of the time, but often did not sound very pleasant.

It sounds like the composer was just trying to show off without any regard for the audience.

Marie-as-Mozart-in-real-life would never compose any such thing.

But Vahan doesn’t seem like a self-important composer, Marie thought as she gazed at the conductor. He seemed like a considerate person; she was surprised that this music had come from him.

“Let’s stop here. Take five, everyone.”

“Yes, maestro!”

The orchestra members put down their instruments and mopped their sweaty brows. Marie looked around to see if there was anything she could assist with.

Vahan came over to Marie and said, “Miss Marie.”

“Yes, maestro. May I help you with anything?”

“No, no. But I do have a question.”

“Of course.”

“You heard us play just now, didn’t you? What did you think?”

Marie did not know how to respond to this unexpected question.

“You can be honest. I just want to know what it might sound like to an audience,” Vahan addedly kindly.

“It was...”

Horrible, is what Marie would have blurted if she had not stopped herself just in time.

Get a grip, Marie! Stop channeling Mozart!

“Not bad,” Marie managed to say, narrowly averting disaster. “It was grand... and it sounded difficult...”

Marie could almost hear the soul of Mozart laughing at her in her head, but Marie stuck with it.

“Really?” Vahan was incredulous. “That’s strange.”

“Sir?”

“Didn’t it sound stuffy?”

Marie was surprised by this man’s evaluation of his own music.

“To be honest,” Vahan continued with a sigh, “This wasn’t the music we wanted for the program. I didn’t write this. It was the previous musical director’s symphony.”

“Ah.”

So it wasn’t his music.

Marie asked gingerly, “Why don’t you play your own music, maestro?” It was customary for composers to conduct their own pieces.

Is there something wrong with the maestro’s own symphony?

Vahan thought for a moment and replied, “Well—”

“Give us your music, maestro! Let’s ditch this stuffy monstrosity!” A musician who was listening in on their conversation interrupted.

“That’s right! We don’t want the former maestro’s pompous music. We want to play your music!”

Vahan seemed at a loss.

“No,” he replied. “As you know, my symphony is still a work in progress.”

“Who cares? It’s beautiful. Just sketch out a rough draft and let us play it. I bet the audience will vastly prefer your music to this.”

“Hear, hear!”

Marie was curious now about Vahan’s music.

I wonder how great it is that they’d prefer his unfinished symphony.

To point out the obvious, a symphony needed to be finished before its first performance, even if it was unbelievably fantastic in its unfinished stage.

“We cannot stand any more of this priggish music! If you can’t get it done by the day of the concert, could we just give it a whirl just for our own enjoyment?”

“Yes! We want to play your music, maestro!”

“Hear, hear!”

The young maestro Vahan stepped up to the podium with an uneasy look.

“We can’t perform it for the concert, but let’s give it a whirl in rehearsal.”

Vahan raised his baton. The orchestra silenced instantly and lifted their instruments.

“Symphony number one in G major. First movement, ‘The Country.’ From the top.”

The music began. Marie clapped her hands over her mouth in surprise.

Ah...

***

The piece was technically uncomplicated but beautiful.

The violas came in like a gentle breeze, and the violins and basses came in like a cool stream of water. And after the refreshing strings came the hum of the timpani. Then the sights of the countryside emerged.

How comforting, Marie thought.

Compared to the previous symphony, this was a comforting, pleasant experience.

They’re sightreading and getting some parts wrong, but it doesn’t sound grating. I feel consoled by the music, as one sometimes does.

As the sight of flowing river or the vast sky did in moments of distress and exhaustion, the music healed.

I could listen to this forever.

Marie wished this moment would go on and on, the way one gazed at a river to clear one’s mind.

Following Vahan’s lead, the orchestra continuously produced different textures and colors—a cool breeze, a forceful current, an expansive ocean. And the thread that ran through it all was comfort and peace for the ears and hearts of the audience.

“This is lovely,” Marie was murmuring to herself when Vahan dropped his hands and frowned.

“This is as far as I’ve gotten,” he said.

“Vahan?”

“I don’t know where to go from here.”

The orchestra members groaned in disappointment.

“But it’s so good. Can’t you develop the theme, drive it up to the climax, and wrap it up?”

Vahan shook his head.

“No, I need to introduce another theme to complete the piece, but I can’t think of the melody. I think I’ve hit my limit.”

“But it’s already so good. Why introduce another theme?”

“Life,” said Vahan.

“Life?”

“Yes. As it stands, the symphony only has the countryside and no life. I want life to be represented in the piece. To offer the audience true comfort and peace.”

“Oh, that’s too bad...” the orchestra grumbled.

Vahan sighed.

“No one is more disappointed about this than I am. I wish I could finish this symphony any way I can, but I just don’t have the talent. I would give my soul to anyone who can come to my aid.”

Disappointed, Vahan and the orchestra returned to the complex, stuffy music.

That’s too bad, Marie thought. To think such beautiful music will never be finished.

Marie imagined how beautiful the symphony would be if it were completed, how happy it would make the audience. If only I could hear the finished piece.

Just then, Marie’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. A melody came to her out of nowhere, and began to play in her mind. She could hardly believe this music only she could hear.

What is this?

Marie followed the tune and saw in time an expanded view of the countryside that Vahan’s theme had sketched out. The simple melody filled out to include harmonies, textures, and depths in precise pitches and beats, as though her head was reading music already written for her.

Then, she heard the layer beneath the country landscape. The subtheme of life flowed through the melody.

The first movement. The second movement. Third movement!

The music continued long past the part that Vahan had written. The symphony wrote itself through the second and third movements, themes developing throughout and racing toward its natural climax.

It was so easy. Music flowed out of Marie like thread from a spool.